in the palm of your hand
by nikkifuego
Summary: Their issues are still the same in a relationship, it's how they go about solving them that's different.


He's been sulking all afternoon. Ever since they got back from the dangerous bust this morning where she had to yell at him in front of the whole team about staying in the car, he's been playing with his phone, paperclips, a rubber band, anything to keep his eyes off hers; doesn't even look up when she tells him she's headed to the box for an interrogation.

When she gets back to her desk, high on the feeling of a confession, strung out on the rush of adrenaline, he's still not looking at her. She says his name once with no response and it's only when she tries a second time, increases her volume that he responds with a flat _what do you want?_

His fingers flick over the screen of his phone and she feels a hot wave rise inside of her, unsure if it's irritation or want and she glances around the bullpen to make sure it's mostly empty before throwing her binder to her desk and leaning her weight on the arms of his chair, voice lowering to a seductive hum.

"I want to fuck your brains out."

He stiffens, his whole body freezing and she lets her breath out in a low rush against his cheek as she pulls back from him. His wide eyes finally meet her own as she stands tall between his legs and she lets her gaze flick down his body and back up again, purposely wetting her lips and worrying her bottom one between her teeth.

Before turning and striding away from him.

She purposely ignores him for the rest of the day unless he directly addresses her. Avoiding his eyes, she lets her fingers linger a moment too long as she hands him a file, brushes against his backside when she leans over to drop something on her desk, pretends not to notice the length of her leg pressed up against his under the table in the break room.

She can practically feel him vibrating during the quiet, tension-filled ride back to her place at the end of the day and he's on her before she has a chance to lock the front door to her apartment, pinning her against it with his leg firmly between her thighs, raking his hands down her sides over the material of her shirt as he growls low in his throat.

"No." Her voice cuts through the thick air around them and she peels his hands off her torso, slender fingers encircling his wrists before dropping them at his sides. She scoots forward on the thigh jammed between her legs, shimmies as close to his body as she can get to whisper in his ear. "My way."

She gives him a push backwards, swiftly following and grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket, backing him farther into her apartment and nipping at his lip as she avoids his attempts to fully capture her mouth. His hands come to her waist once again and she releases his jacket to push them off, still directing him towards her bedroom with hot puffs of air against his lips.

His jacket falls to the floor as they stumble through the doorway, and she doesn't stop her advance on him until he's tumbling backwards onto her bed. She watches him rise up onto his elbows, blue eyes becoming dark pools, fists unconsciously clenching and unclenching while he watches her remove her boots and slip out of her dress pants. She's left in only her shirt and lace underwear and she slowly bends a knee up, putting a foot between his legs on the bed before lunging at him, roughly shoving on his shoulders and climbing over his body.

She can already feel the effect she's having on him through his jeans as she moves to straddle him, smirking as she pulls the tails of his dress shirt free, letting her hands ghost over his belt before abandoning it to rise up over his body. Her fingers go to the collar of his shirt and she begins to deftly flick each button open, hair cascading over his chest, nails lightly scratching on her way down.

"You should've seen me in the interrogation room today." Her voice is barely a whisper against his chest and she feels him shiver under her, body reacting to her breath against his skin. "Some of my best work. And I _know_," she pushes his shirt open, bites at his collarbone to punctuate the word, feels the surprise jerk of his hips behind her. "I know that you like to watch."

His response is a non-committal grunt, but his hands come up to grip her ass and she grins, shimmies backwards over him, straightening up to remove her own shirt. She bites her lip as she watches his hazy eyes glued to her fingers, taking her time with each button, slowly letting the almost-sheer material slide off her arms. She feels heated under his gaze, intoxicated by the feeling after missing him all day and a sharp curl of desire rises low in her stomach.

"You do like watching, don't you Castle?" Her hands trip down the front of her body and over the camisole she's still wearing, peeling up the soft cotton to brush her fingers over the top of her underwear. "Did you miss it today? While you were being a big baby?"

His eyes narrow as they cut to her face for a second but she can tell he's not about to start an argument now, not when she's sliding her hand down past the lacy fabric, fingers disappearing as she circles her bundle of nerves before pressing down, sighing and dropping her weight onto his chest with her other hand.

She continues to work her fingers, eyes focused on the heavy rise and fall of his chest as she grits her teeth, one finger sliding down to slip inside herself. She closes her eyes, hips rolling into her hand, savoring the slow burn that she feels spreading from the tips of her fingers to the rest of her body.

Castle groans and she rocks again, adding another finger before she realizes her angle is doing it for both of them, her hips rocking her knuckles into his jean-clad erection and she tightens her knees around him on the bed, slowly moves her fingers in and out and relishes in the tightening of his hands still cupping her from behind, pressing her body closer to him.

She ends up practically flat against his chest, breath coming in pants as her body thrums over him and she feels his hands leave her backside to slide under her camisole, tugging it up and unhooking her bra as he goes. He pulls it out from between them and lets his thumbs brush the sides of her breasts, tugging on a nipple and everything is suddenly too much and not enough and she needs _more_.

She pulls back, sliding down his body, freeing herself from the camisole slung awkwardly across her shoulders as she orders him to undress. Quickly pulling off his socks and shoes, she frowns as he lays unmoving, still caught in the moment.

"_Castle_. Pants."

The sound of her voice makes him snap back to attention and his fingers start fumbling with his belt, her level of impatience already too high as she starts to tug before he's even released his zipper.

She's back up over him a flash, tossing her underwear aside and practically climbing on him to help him get rid of his own, taking him in hand as she rises up on her knees. Her thumb runs over his tip and she watches his head slam back against the headboard as she positions herself, sinking down slowly.

She's still for a moment, biting her lip and relishing in the feeling before digging her toes into the mattress and grabbing for the headboard on either side of him, pulling herself up and then slowly sliding down again. His hands grasp at any part of her he can reach when she lifts up again, this time holding herself above him for a second or two longer and his eyes open in question, head coming up to look at her before she suddenly slams back onto him, twin cries mingling in the air between them.

She twists her hips and it's all frantic motion, the scrape of her teeth against his jaw, hands grabbing at her waist, headboard jerking against the back of his head. He uses the tiny amount of leverage he has beneath her to thrust up and she makes a keening sound, arms stretched taut as she leans backwards.

His hand suddenly hits the side of her face, trying to get at the back of her head to draw her in for a kiss but his aim is off, sloppy, thumb landing at the corner of her mouth as his palm cradles her jaw. She snakes her tongue out, an invitation, sucking the digit into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it lewdly before biting down.

"_Fuck_, Beckett," he hisses and they're the first words he's said since they entered her apartment, since they left the precinct earlier and she rolls her hips into him harder, gasps as she leans forward.

"As promised."

His hands are all over her then; squeezing at her thighs, skating up her stomach, palming a breast and her world narrows to the pinpoint of his thumb between her legs, still wet with her saliva and rubbing rubbing rubbing until she comes undone, her hands finally leaving the headboard to clutch at his shoulders as her vision goes white and she shudders against him.

He's still moving under her as she comes back down and her grip tightens, nerve endings on fire at the friction between them. She presses an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, arching her body into his and whispering encouragements against his skin until she feels him tense, pumping into her with a groan of release.

Silence settles over the room like a blanket as they lay still against each other and she opens her mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry."

It comes out of both of them at the same time in a rush of air and she laughs in relief, curling into his chest and pressing her palm against him, shoulders shaking and suddenly unable to catch her breath as he squints down at her, frowning.

"Nothing like a laughing fit immediately after sex to bruise the ego, Beckett."

She sucks in a deep breath, leaning back to look him in the eye, smirk forming on her face. "Whose ego, now? Because I'm pretty sure I did most of the work back there."

"And what nice work it was." Castle tilts his head to look down at her, grinning. "If this whole cop thing doesn't work out, you might be able to make some good money that way."

"Charming," she deadpans, rolling her eyes but letting him tangle his fingers in her hair, drawing her back down against his chest. The silence is easier now, the rise and fall of his chest a comfort, and she draws figure eights into his skin with one finger as she lays boneless against him.

"I worry about you getting hurt," she says quietly, finger still tracing seamless patterns. She's almost unwilling to burst their blissful bubble but this time taking the easy out feels wrong to her, uncomfortable.

"I know."

She can hear the rueful smile in his voice, the returned sentiment unsaid under layers of history between them. She rises up to kiss him for the first time that evening in response, slow and gentle, attempts to assuage his fears with her tongue when she lacks the words. Her forehead comes to rest against his when they break apart, fingers scratching lightly against the hair at the back of his neck, earning a sigh from his parted lips.

"I shouldn't have acted like such a child," he admits and she laughs low in her throat, pulling back to raise an eyebrow at him and flushing as the effect that has on him is made evident, a fresh wave of arousal cresting into his gaze.

"That could be an apology for any number of things over the years," she muses, pulling him back towards her mouth, ready to swallow his huff of protest. "I'll think about it. In the meantime…"

She trails off, lets the edges of her lips turn up as they ghost against his. "Persuade me, Castle."


End file.
